


Postcard from my Heart

by coffeeshopangel



Category: Merlin (TV), Merlin (TV) RPF
Genre: Because I'm a sucker for happy endings, Brolin Week, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Reincarnation, obviously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-07-29
Packaged: 2017-12-21 18:33:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/903495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeeshopangel/pseuds/coffeeshopangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin travels the world after Arthur's death, collecting postcards and addressing them to Arthur for when he comes back. Because he's going to come back, dammit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Postcard from my Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic features Merlin going by the name of Colin Morgan and Arthur being reincarnated as Bradley James, therefore if you don't like this idea (I absolutely adore it to be honest because both pairs are just so in love) you probably should choose to click away :((. Originally written for Brolin Week on Tumblr and I haven't posted it here until now because I'm lazy.

Everywhere Merlin went, he bought a postcard. Most of them were the cheesy, stereotypical tourist postcards that flaunt the person’s world travels, but Merlin loved them. He loved the feel of the glossy, card stock with exuberant colors splayed in the background of a photo snapped at the perfect time. He loved the old postcards with the wrinkled brown wrapping paper and vintage photos – faded by time and forgotten by the rest of the world. Merlin catalogued the world modernizing, the innocence of the 1800s breaking into the war ridden 1900s and the not-so gentle ease into the 2000s.

But, to Merlin, what made these postcards special was that each was addressed to Arthur. After purchasing a postcard he’d go to wherever he was biding his time that week, and write. Occasionally, Merlin talked about some people he met, or a fight he witnessed, or how he had tried something called cavalier and absolutely hated it. Other times he’d spill his guts about the latest gadget he wanted or an advancement in weaponry that Merlin was positive Arthur would be interested in, but most of all, Merlin wrote about how much he missed Arthur. Whenever he finished his letter, he’d put it with his collection, a welcome home present for Arthur. His Arthur.

It was 2008 and Merlin was going by the name of Colin Morgan, a seemingly normal and inconspicuous name that was unlikely to have attention drawn to it (quite the opposite of ‘Merlin’) when he heard a rumor about a TV series cataloging the life of Arthur Pendragon and his manservant – Merlin.

Colin, believing that it was going to be a foolish spin-off with some stand in actors and terrible acting, auditioned anyway. The first time he got the script, he nearly balked, the scene so old yet vividly familiar. At the audition, there was no contest. Colin had lived the scene before, had the broken emotion evident in his voice because he recalled the day. A wave of nostalgia hit him, causing a flood of timid smiles and provocative taunts to resurface and Colin gave everything over to reading the lines, letting his memory pull him under.

It was no surprise when the casting agents called him a short time later, informing him that his “outstanding performance was desired for the show, if he read well with the actor who was going to be playing Arthur”. He hadn’t even thought about the implications of someone other than Arthur – his Arthur – pouting when he didn’t get his way and begging for five more minutes of beauty sleep. Nonetheless, there was a tiny spark of hope, nestled deep in Colin’s heart that smoldered – a flicker of aspiration, which sprung to life whenever Colin saw a mop of golden hair or flash of sapphire eyes and Colin stomped on it, avoiding the pain it would ostensibly cause him.

The joined reading day came and Colin was dressed casually, hair his usual mussed-up mop, yet his heart beat a staccato of instability. The agents appointed him a room, and Colin – who was so used to waiting – became increasingly nervous the longer he sat. After, what seemed to be an eternity, the door opened and a pretty brunette woman asked him if he was ready. Colin slid a confidant smile onto his face and nodded, body language betraying his anxious state.

“It’s alright to be nervous,” the woman comforted, “many actors are, before their first meeting.”

Colin smiled at her warmly, thinking about the irony that her sentence held. The remainder of their walk was spent in companionable silence as Colin worked on slowing the adrenaline zinging through his veins.

The lady stopped in front of a door and looked back at Colin, who smiled at her again and she patted him gently on the shoulder before whispering, “If it’s any consolation, Bradley’s just as nervous as you. Just be yourselves and find your footing and you two will be fine.”

“Bradley?” Colin asked faintly, eyeing the door with near contempt.

“Yeah, Bradley James, the actor who is playing Arthur.” She replied, “Did you not read the info booklet the casting agents sent you?”

“No.” Colin replied and she laughed, eyes sparkling.

“You’ll be fine, now go!” She set her hand on his shoulder briefly, before walking back down the hallway, leaving Colin standing outside the door, his insides in deep turmoil.

“For Christ’s sake, I’ve battled Wyverns and had to clean Arthur’s dirty socks, this should be no problem.” Colin chided himself before grabbing a hold of the handle and swinging the door open.

The open door revealed a man with sun stained blonde hair, lips a pale coral pink, but it was the eyes that caught Colin off guard. His eyes were a mixture of captivating and piercing, bluer than the oceans in the Caribbean with a tinge of azure that had Colin’s knees buckling from beneath him.

Bradley shot forward and caught Colin before he slumped to the floor, the pools of blue radiating familiarity, happiness, confusion and love.

“A-Arthur?” Colin stuttered, staring into Bradley’s face, praying that it wasn’t simply his mind torturing him.

Bradley beamed, the crooked smile lighting up his entire face and Colin felt the barriers he had built around his heart collapse into debris, and emotions flooded his body, swamping him in feelings he had avoided for so long.

Hooking his arms around Bradley’s neck, Colin kissed Bradley in a way that he had never, much to his regret, kissed Arthur. He let affection overtake all physicality and pushed all his hidden feelings into the press of lips. Bradley kissed back chastely, his mouth returning the lost sentiment and resuscitated passion until Colin’s head swam with images of their past.

When they finally broke apart, Bradley didn’t let go of Colin, instead drawing him closer to the body Colin had craved for years.

“I missed you.” Colin blurt out, smiling sheepishly at the man above him, who rolled those cerulean eyes Colin loved so much.

“Still rather obvious then, Colin.” Bradley responded and Colin grinned at the proverbial haughty tone and customary roll of the first three syllables of his name.

“Yes, Sire.” Colin taunted and Bradley’s eyes flashed with a playful hunger and an underlying nostalgia.

“I believe it would be best if we returned to your flat,” Colin’s King suggested, “I quite think we’ll be able to play the parts of the Great King Arthur and his suspicious manservant exceptionally.”

Colin merely raised an eyebrow and nodded, maneuvering his way off the floor and threading his hand through Bradley’s. “I’ve got something to show you, anyways.”

Not wasting a single minute, Colin transported himself and Bradley to his living room, which Bradley raised his eyebrows at.

“You know, I’m still mad at you about not telling me, right?”

“I figured, but we can talk about that later, I promise.” Colin said distractedly, walking through his bedroom to his closet, where he ruffled around behind his clothing until he felt the box.

Turning around, he saw Bradley had followed him and was perched on the edge of Colin’s bed, perusing the color scheme of his room.

“Pendragon red.” He muttered softly, before turning his piercing gaze on Colin, “You painted your room Pendragon red.”

“I-I needed something to remind me of you.” Colin shrugged, and made his way to the bed next to Bradley.

Colin set the box down between their bodies and Bradley looked at him, confusedly.

“I already told you I missed you, so I’m not going to stroke your ego anymore, but I got lonely and this-,” he gestured at the box between them, “was a way to shoo the pain away.”

Bradley looked at the box interestedly and then back at Colin, who smiled shyly, murmuring and pushing the box until it hit Bradley’s thigh, “Welcome home, Arthur.”

After the third postcard, Colin left Bradley in silence and slid into his couch, flicking on the television to an old Doctor Who rerun.

After an undetermined amount of time, Bradley finished reading the postcards, the memories packed away into an old cardboard box that had the power to strip Bradley of his walls and cry after the first postcard. Slowly, he packed all the postcards away again, wiped the silent tears from his cheeks and got off the bed.

As quietly as he could, Bradley made his way back out to the living room, exploring unopened doors and peeking out the odd window until he found Colin, sprawled out on his couch, snoring against the couch arm gently.

“Incompetent and lazy, as per normal.” Bradley muttered fondly, lifting Colin from the couch as smoothly as he could and returning Colin to his own bed. He stripped Colin of his shirt and jeans, leaving him in only his boxers, before tucking him under the blankets and kissing him on the forehead. Flicking out the light, Bradley stripped himself of his own clothing, knowing that if he left now Colin would never forgive him. Carefully, he slid into Colin’s bed, smiling to himself when Colin’s head cuddled up against his chest, raven hair tickling his throat.

“I love you… I always have.” Bradley confessed into the silence of Colin’s sleeping form and he fell asleep, arm cradling Colin against his chest protectively.


End file.
